


Tumblr Writer's Prompt - DBZ

by coldphoenix



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, writers prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldphoenix/pseuds/coldphoenix
Summary: Just some asks I got from a writer's prompt on tumblr. Please visit my page to reblog these :)





	1. If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass (Katas and Guru)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Prompt List](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/284943) by oneshot-manyfandoms. 



**“If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.” - Katas and Guru**

_Pant. Pant. Pant_ …  
“Katas… please. Take it.”  
“No…” Hollow-eyed and weary, the once lively Katas looked at his only surviving friend. The only other namekian left alive. Guru. Innocent, sensible Guru… Noble Guru. Noble enough to beg Katas to take their last few litres of water – the only thing that could save Katas’s life. Katas wasn’t going to take it, though. He wanted to. He was so dehydrated he was in pain. His breathing was laboured, his vision was blurry, he felt dizzy… but he wouldn’t take it. If he did, it would mean Guru would have none… and Guru needed it to survive. Guru **had** to be the one to survive.  
“Katas.” Guru begged, his eyes glistening. “Please…” He took hold of Katas’s hand, and squeezed it. “You need it. You’re dying.”  
“I’m fine.” Katas breathed. 

He looked ahead, towards the mouth of the cave in which they’d taken shelter for the night. It was cooler in here. Away from the harsh rays of Namek’s suns, the two of them used slightly less water in shelters like this. They’d been travelling on foot for days; their vehicle had run out of fuel. It had been difficult to accept the fact that they had to walk now… moving used up water, water their thirsty bodies couldn’t afford to lose. They couldn’t stay with the vehicle, though. They had to keep going. The weather was due to change soon; there was a rain cloud coming. If they just kept walking, they could reach it… Guru could reach it anyway. Just him. That was becoming obvious to Guru now. They were still days away; there was barely enough water left in their rations to sustain even one of them, let alone both. Katas had insisted that Guru take more than him. This whole time Katas had drank less, so that Guru could drink more… and now, here they were. With an almighty pain in his heart, Guru tried his best not to cry… but he knew. He had taken Katas’s life. “In the morning, we’ll set out again. I’m okay, Guru.”  
“You’re not okay!” Guru wailed. “You won’t make it like this. Please. Just have a little – I’ll carry you –”  
“What?” Katas frowned, suddenly seeming angry. “Don’t be stupid! You’ll use too much energy. You won’t make it.”  
“What if I don’t make it anyway!” Guru yelled. “You **can’t** leave me –”  
“Stop.” Katas growled. He glared at Guru. Fiercely, like he was angry… he _was_ angry. Angry… and scared. “You will make it.”  
“But –”  
“You _**will**_ make it.” Katas hissed. “You have to. Guru…”

He placed his hand on Guru’s, squeezing it so forcefully Guru’s bones almost broke. Guru’s face twisted in pain; he gasped under Katas’s harsh grasp. “One day, my child will need you. You can _not_ die. Do you understand?”  
“Kat –”  
“ _ **Guru**_!” Katas managed to scream, even through his fatigue. As much as his life was fading, he was as lively as necessary when it came to ensuring that Guru, the only one of them who could make dragonballs, the only one of them who could one day help Katas’s child, would absolutely **not** die. “You are going to make it. You’ll survive. Don’t believe anything else.” 

He looked into Guru’s eyes. Determinedly, and fiercely… so much so that Guru felt a little afraid. He’d never seen Katas look like this before. He was so… angry. Angry, and certain that he was right. … Well… Katas never had been one for listening to anyone else. He always got his way, even now.  
“… Okay.” Guru mumbled.  
“… Good.” Katas released his grip on Guru’s hand, but Guru didn’t pull it away. He was too terrified of losing him, as if holding on would make the slightest difference as to whether Katas lived or died. “Don’t cry.” Katas ordered. “You’ll waste water.”  
“… You’ll make it too, won’t you?” Guru whimpered. He looked at Katas pleadingly, silently begging him to stay. He couldn’t… He didn’t know what he would do if Katas didn’t stay. “Please? I’ll survive, if you do. Please don’t leave me alone.”  
“Heh.” Katas sniggered. He leaned his head back against the wall of the cave, and closed his eyes. “Just go to sleep, Guru. We don’t have energy to talk.”  
“Please!” Guru cried. “Katas… don’t leave me. Promise!”  
“I promise…” Katas smirked. “You won’t be on your own. Even if I die…” He looked at Guru, and winked. “I’m going to haunt the hell out of you.” 


	2. I’d rather die, than do that/kiss you (Piccolo and Nail)

**“I’d rather die, than do that/kiss you.” - Piccolo and Nail**

Piccolo Junior sat down, briefly closing his eyes as a wave of nausea overcame him.  
“Junior, what’s wrong…?” Viola asked, looking at him in concern. “You look sick.”  
“You too.” Zarba commented, moving her eyes to Nail as he too took a seat opposite Piccolo.  
“Heh… don’t worry about it.” Nail promised, waving his hand. “I probably just partied a little too hard last night.”  
“Well, don’t.” Piccolo growled, glaring at him. “At some point, we’re going to re-fuse. I don’t want you putting crap into my body.”  
“Whatever…” Nail yawned. “Huh… I do feel rougher than usual, though… I don’t think being apart from you is agreeing with me, Brother.”  
“You know, that probably is the problem.” Zarba said. “You guys have been fused for so long, I don’t think your bodies can handle being apart. You’ll probably keep getting worse until you fuse again, you know.”  
“So how do we do it?” Piccolo asked, blinking himself conscious. “A normal fusion won’t work, right?” He placed his palms on the table, as a short spell of dizziness caught him. Kami, he felt like he was about to faint! He shook his head and exhaled, breathing away his sickness. Okay… that was better. For now.  
“Well… actually.” Zarba smirked. “It’s with physical contact.”  
“What do we do, hold hands?” Nail looked at Piccolo, and winked. “Sounds cute.”  
“Oh… it’s a little more intimate than that.”

Piccolo turned to Zarba, and glared at her. That did _not_ sound good. She was the one that had separated them, after all. Just what kind of antidote had she made for this?  
“What is it.” He demanded, already dreading her response. He could tell it would be something terrible…  
“You just have to kiss.” Zarba beamed. “Nothing fancy.”  
“Kiss?” Viola blinked, looking at her. “Like, on the cheek?”  
“Nope.” Zarba grinned. “Traditional lip kiss.”  
“ _ **What**_!”

Piccolo leapt up from his chair, with such force it fell backwards and land with a loud _smack_ against the floor. “What the hell do you mean!” He yelled, his entire body shaking in anger. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing!  
“I mean… you have to kiss.” Zarba said. “On the lips. Otherwise you won’t be able to fuse back.”  
“That’s ridiculous!” Piccolo barked. “What kind of fusion is that?”  
“The kind that you have to do after you’ve been separated.” Zarba smirked. “Sorry… I didn’t think you’d mind.”  
“Mind? _Mind_? Who do you think I am! I don’t just go around kissing people!” Piccolo wailed. 

He paused; he suddenly felt dizzy again… dammit. He sat back down at the table, on a seat next to Nail, who was looking at him with a mischievous grin upon his face.  
“I’m cool with it.” Nail smirked.  
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Piccolo growled, and looked away. “You know what? I’ll just wait for the separation to wear off. I’d rather feel like this than kiss you.”  
“Oh, thanks.” Nail sneered.  
“It won’t wear off.” Zarba said. “You guys are separated for good, and the longer you’re apart the worse you’ll get. Eventually, the two of you will die.”  
“Die?” Piccolo gasped, staring at her with wide eyes. “Then why the hell did you separate us!”  
“I figured you wouldn’t mind kissing.” Zarba answered.  
“I don’t –”  
“ _ **I do**_!” Piccolo screamed, quickly cutting Nail off. “And I’d rather die than kiss him!”  
“Are you serious?” Nail frowned. He looked at Piccolo, insulted. “You’d rather _die_ than kiss me?”  
“Yes.” Piccolo hissed.  
“Well, I wouldn’t!” Nail pouted. “I say we do it.”  
“You can’t seriously be okay with this?” Piccolo seethed, his fists clenching in anger. Unbelievable… this was _unbelievable_! How had he ever gotten into this situation? It was absurd! Not to mention humiliating!  
“Of course I am.” Nail replied. “Brother, I’ve spent the last couple of decades watching other people kiss through your eyes. I always wanted to try it myself. And…” He smirked. “You look like me. So I couldn’t ask for a better looking partner. I’m totally up for this.”  
“You can’t be serious…” Piccolo groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Was this really happening…? Did he really have to… _**why**_? Why couldn’t they just fuse like they had done last time? Why did they have to – **dammit**! No! He was Piccolo! Piccolo didn’t kiss people! He didn’t kiss, he didn’t hug, he didn’t date, he didn’t hold hands – he didn’t do _anything_ that could be associated with romance! Why did he have to now…? Ugh… but he felt so dizzy. He could feel his life draining away. Dammit… was he really going to die…? If he was honest, the thought of that was actually more appealing than the alternative, but… that was stupid, wasn’t it? As much as he really felt like he’d rather die than kiss someone, Piccolo had to admit… not kissing really wasn’t worth dying over. He knew it wasn’t. Dammit… Dammit! … Fine. “Fine…” He mumbled. “Just… make it quick.” He raised his face from his hands, to look at Nail. “And we’ll do it now. Get it over with.”  
“Sure.” Nail shrugged. “I’ve had as much fun out here as I can have. Being alive is pretty tiring.” He took hold of Piccolo’s turban, and removed it from his head. “Let’s do this, Player.”  
“Don’t call me that.” Piccolo snarled. He didn’t even know what it meant, but it sounded derogatory. “And give me back my turban.”  
“Sorry. We need it off.” Nail answered. “Otherwise, I’m pretty sure it won’t work.”  
“Why not?” Piccolo demanded.  
“Because we’re namekians, Brother. What Guru told me about the old days, we kiss with our antennae.” Nail replied. “So…” He leaned into Piccolo, and grinned. “Wanna try it?”  
“… You look like you’re into this.” Piccolo growled, staring in reluctant disgust at Nail’s excited smile and his bright, eager eyes. “Just make it quick.”  
“Alright. Close your eyes.”

Piccolo was more than happy to comply; he did _not_ want to see Nail’s face during this, and he didn’t want to see Viola and Zarba watching. This was horrific. He scrunched his eyelids shut, and waited nervously… then there it was. Piccolo felt Nail’s hands on his thighs as he leaned into him, and there was a… warmth. A soft warmth, against Piccolo’s lips. Oh, this was horrible. Why hadn’t he chosen to die? They had the dragonballs. They could bring him back! Piccolo’s entire body tensed as Nail held his lips against his, and something brushed Piccolo’s antennae… gross. It was Nail’s antennae. It had to be. They were… stroking him. … Hm. Actually, that part wasn’t too bad. It sort of tickled. Without realising it, Piccolo started to relax. His tense, rigid antennae softened against Nail’s, somewhat enjoying the new sensation. Surprisingly, it felt kind of good. Either way, it was working… Piccolo was starting to feel better. There was a warmth surrounding him – a pleasant, soothing warmth. He felt… nice. It must be the separation wearing off; it must be releasing endorphins in Piccolo’s brain or something… Did they have to hold the kiss until they were fused again? Hm… actually, Piccolo wouldn’t really mind that. It wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. Anyway, if they really needed to do this to put things back to how they were… then, okay. That was… fine by him. All too willingly Piccolo found himself placing his hands on Nail’s face, holding him against the kiss. His antennae gently stroked Nail’s, tickled and quivering under the touch. His lips parted, and he suddenly found himself doing something he _never_ thought he would ever do, but… it didn’t feel wrong. Maybe because he and Nail had been one for so long now… This felt… right. Either way, it was better than dying. As surprising as that was.

The kiss lasted for what felt like forever, but not long enough. Piccolo frowned slightly when he felt Nail start to pull away, and he opened his eyes to… see him. What…? Why… why was he still there…? “… Whew.” Nail exhaled, his cheeks slightly tainted with a soft violet blush. “That was… better than I thought.”  
“… Yeah, whatever.” Piccolo mumbled, looking away as a much deeper blush started to form on his face. “So are you getting inside me or what?”  
“Heh. I’d _love_ to do that, Brother.” Nail sniggered, his eyes twinkling playfully.  
“Don’t be crude!” Piccolo barked, and glared at Zarba. “Why isn’t it working?”  
“Oh, because I made all that up.” Zarba smirked. “You guys will feel sick for a while, but eventually you’ll re-fuse on your own. We just had a bet on whether or not you’d do it.”  
“Yeah, and Nail wanted to try kissing.” Viola giggled. “I was going to show him, until Zarba thought of this.”

Piccolo sat there in silence while the three of them started laughing. He was… stunned. Too stunned to speak. Had he… had he just heard them right? They’d… … He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t… _believe_ it. Why the **hell** would they do something like that! His cheeks were burning; he was so angry his entire body was trembling! Those _**jackasses**_!  
“Thanks for playing, Brother.” Nail grinned, slamming his hand onto Piccolo’s shoulder. “That was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”  
“ _ **You bastards**_!” The entire house shook under the volume of Piccolo’s scream, and for a few seconds he looked the spitting image of his father.


	3. Can we exchange quirky nicknames now? ‘Enemy’ is too cliché. (Goku and Vegeta)

**“Can we exchange quirky nicknames now? ‘Enemy’ is too cliché.” - Goku and Vegeta**

Vegeta darted around his gravity chamber, his heart racing and sweat pouring from his body as he trained vigorously, with only one goal in his mind… to become powerful enough to _**kill**_ Kakarot! That bastard was off training with Beerus and Whis, and had once again done it **behind** Vegeta’s back, leaving Vegeta to train here on Earth, with absolutely no worthy opponent! Vegeta was livid. He was so angry he could barely see straight, but he could see his targets alright. They were as clear as day. He’d made them look like Kakarot’s face… and he would **destroy** them! _Blast_! _Boom_! _Smack_! He took them out one by one, unleashing all of his anger upon these innocent objects. _**Thwack**_!   
“Ow!”

A sudden cry caused Vegeta to stop dead, and he exhaled, panting breathlessly as he stared at the target in front of him. That… that wasn’t a target. It was _Kakarot_!  
“What are you doing here!” Vegeta yelled. He kicked the control panel of his gravity chamber, and at once the gravity returned to normal and his robot targets disappeared.   
“Getting punched in the nose!” Goku whined, rubbing his reddened face. “Watch what you’re doing, Vegeta!”   
“Shut up.” Vegeta spat. “You deserve much worse than that. What happened, did Whis finally get bored of your ignorance?” He shot Goku a nasty, snippy glare.   
“Wait, you’re still mad?” Goku groaned, picking up on Vegeta’s blatantly obvious discontent. “Look – Vegeta, I seriously didn’t think you’d want to come!”   
“Why would you think that!” Vegeta yelled. “What is it about me that makes you think I would **not** want to train with two of the most powerful beings in our universe?”   
“Well… it’s Bra’s birthday soon.” Goku said. “I mean… you made such a big thing about being here for her birth, so I figured you’d want to stay here for her birthday as well.”   
“Her birthday…” Vegeta seethed. “Is six months away.”   
“… Oh.” Goku laughed, a sheepish grin appearing on his innocent face. “My bad. I guess I forgot when it was.”

Ignoring the ever-loudening growl that was viciously emitting from Vegeta’s throat, he reached into the front of his gi and pulled out an envelope. “Anyway. I just remembered, I forgot to give you this.”   
“What’s that?” Vegeta demanded.   
“My silver wedding invitation.” Goku answered. “Chichi said we have to invite all of our friends.”   
“I’m not your friend!” Vegeta barked, and stubbornly turned away. “If anything, we’re enemies.”   
“Ah…” Goku’s face twisted, as if he were bored. “We’re still using that word? I think it’s time we gave ourselves better nicknames. ‘Enemy’ is a little cliché for super saiyan gods, don’t you think?”

Vegeta instinctively opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Actually… as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Kakarot might have a point. Vegeta had been using the word ‘enemy’ since he was a weak little punk still using his oozaru as his most powerful form. He’d moved on a lot since then… … Tch. Fine.   
“So what would you suggest?” Vegeta growled, turning to face Goku.   
“I dunno, something quirky.” Goku shrugged. “How about… ‘Blue Dudes’?”   
“‘Blue Dudes’?” Vegeta said flatly, clearly unimpressed.   
“Yeah, because of the blue hair? It’s like… a secret club that only powerful guys like us can join…?” Goku looked at the disapproving expression on Vegeta’s face, and sighed. “Well, what do you want?”   
“‘Rivals’ would suit.” Vegeta said. “We _are_ rivals.” He smirked. “And clearly you’re worried that I’m going to surpass you, isn’t that why you went to train with Whis on your own?”   
“No, that’s not it!” Goku protested. “I actually forgot when Bra was born, she’s not **my** kid!”   
“You wouldn’t even know your own kids’ birthdays.” Vegeta growled, looking away. “… I’d say ‘Victim’, for one of us at least.” He said, the smirk returning to his lips.   
“Oh, I don’t know…” Goku mused. “You’re weaker than me, but I’d never like to make a ‘victim’ of you, Vegeta…”  
“Not me, you jackass!” Vegeta barked. “ _ **You**_! You’re the victim!”   
“Heh.” Goku grinned arrogantly. “That word has never suited me, Buddy.”   
“Bud – oh, no!” Vegeta yelled, stepping back in anger. “You are **not** calling me ‘Buddy’, let’s clear that up right now! We’re not buddies, or friends, and I’m not your victim! Understand?”   
“Yeah, whatever…” Goku sighed, suddenly remembering the envelope in his hand.   
“Anyway. Just take this. I was supposed to deliver this yesterday.” He handed the envelope to Vegeta, who reluctantly took it. “It’s for you, Bulma and the kids. We’re having a great big party. There’ll be a ton of food, and Mr. Satan’s arranged a venue and entertainment for us.”   
“… Hm.” Vegeta grunted. A wedding anniversary? _Kakarot’s_ wedding anniversary? It sounded boring… but, Vegeta knew Bulma would want to go. At least there would be food… “I’ll consider it.” Vegeta growled.   
“Thanks.” Goku sniggered. “Hey, maybe your nickname for the day can be ‘Party Pooper’, or ‘That Weird Guy In The Corner’.”   
“Shut up, Kakarot!” Vegeta barked.   
“Anyway, I gotta head back.” Goku said, touching his fingers to his forehead. “I’ll ask Beerus and Whis if they can come up with any names for us.”   
“Wha – **no**!” Vegeta yelled. “Kakarot, don’t ask them that! And take me with –” Too late. Goku was already gone. “ _ **Dammit**_!” Vegeta screamed, turning super saiyan under the force of his anger. The infuriating **bastard**!


End file.
